I’m on my feet before I can finish the thought. I trek beyond the square, where night swallows the trees. The moon casts silver rays that light the path. Ahead, within the protection of the orbs’ light, a small cliff overlooks a gorge. I sense in my heart that she’s there.

I follow this familiar feeling, hoping it will lead me to her again.

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Idalia

Footsteps approach, and I know whose before he says anything. I dangle my feet off the ledge and stare at the looming moon and the washed, ethereal halo that hugs around it. The dark Wood sleeps. Below my feet, the dense trees stretch as far as I can see. For the first time since entering them, I’m not afraid. Without a word, he settles several feet away and throws his legs over the edge.

“Enough distance?” He smiles, and I turn to meet his arrogant stare.

“I suppose. Unless the cliff decides to crumble, and we meet at the bottom.”

“In that case…” He scooches another inch away from me. “How about that?”

I expel a heavy breath that comes out as a laugh. “Perfect.”

I again face the moon and let the wind blow my hair. I feel his eyes still on me, and my heart races. Why does my heart race?

“Quite a day, huh?”

I want to laugh and agree. I want to drink and spend the night going over just how wild this day was, but I can’t. I must remember who he is. I must tell my heart to calm and my mind to take control. I’m not a twelve-year-old girl chasing birds any longer. I look at him.

“Have you come to make sure I haven’t run away? I told you, I’m not foolish enough to brave these woods alone.” He looks stunned. “Furthermore, I saved two of your people today. I think I’ve proven that I’m trustworthy enough to have a moment for myself.”

Eventually, his brow relaxes, and he nods. “Of course, you have,” he agrees and rises. “You’ve proven more than that. I’ll leave you be. Have a good night, Sparrow.” He pivots to leave, and an involuntary groan escapes me.

“I wish you wouldn’t call me that.”

He doesn’t move. The curls on the back of his head sway lightly in the wind.

“We were friends when you gave me that name, and now that we’re not, I don’t think it’s appropriate to use it anymore. It doesn’t seem right.”

He’s silent, but I see one of his hands ball into a tight fist.

“If you don’t want me to call you that, I won’t,” he bites out.

My stomach drops. I don’t not want him to call me Sparrow. I’d half expected him to fight me for the right to use that name.